


Days I begin with you

by AdelvinaGaarder



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice, Justice League (2017), Superman - All Media Types
Genre: Blow Jobs, Established Relationship, Fluff and Smut, Hand Jobs, M/M, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, This is basically what I hope will happen after JLA is established
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-23
Updated: 2016-12-23
Packaged: 2018-09-11 10:42:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,177
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8976427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AdelvinaGaarder/pseuds/AdelvinaGaarder
Summary: While developing their new Justice League, Bruce and Clark established a daily routine featuring a big portion of romantic bliss. Fluffy smut ensured.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Loosely based on BVS AU.
> 
> Set in the future after JLA I envisioned.

Morning light pours into his bedroom, blinding Bruce as he squints at the silhouette of the man standing in front of the full height glass. The endless Metropolis skyline is beyond him. The darkness recedes; a sense of violation arises when the light is so aggressively invading his space. He needs a few more hours of blackness. The bitter taste of the whisky lingers and keeps his mind fuzzy.

“Bruce, wake up.”

There stands Clark, Man of Steel, Last Son of Krypton, or otherwise privately, his lover. The man who continues inviting him into the light. He is in plaid shirt and trousers, his glasses hardly covering the big grin on his face. The curtains are tied into one smooth motion. The beautiful view of the morning Metropolis is revealed, in brilliant amber. Had it not been Clark Bruce would never know how amazing sunrise is in Metropolis. Spreading sunrise, clouds tinted in orange. The skyscrapers reflected the red and shine in morning glory, as well as coloring Clark dazzle gold.

A new day for both of them.

He has a board meeting in the afternoon. No reason to rush. No need to wake up early. His schedule during his stay in Metropolis is open. Albeit Clark breaking into his penthouse on his company building, which finished its reconstruction only two weeks ago, in the early hours is infuriating, he can hardly keep his anger upon Clark’s sweet smile. He plans to spend the morning with Clark. He made sure Diana and Barry are going to take the duty, while not trying too hard to hide his affair with Clark. Sharing a brunch at a nice and warm coffee shop sounds pleasant. All he needs is a pair of glasses to hide in the sight, just like Clark.

The digital clock says 7:10. One layer of fabric is a little cold since his is only wearing his boxers. Bruce groans under the sober light, hinted with annoyance. He digs deeper into his comforter and tries to retain the remnant of his sleep. It is one thing to wake up to Clark. No one gets Bruce Wayne out of his bed, especially after a hangover. He repositions himself lying with his back facing the windows and pulls his blanket over his head.

A tsk of disapproval, a sting of footsteps goes around his bed to his nightstand. Glass bottles bump into one and other as Clark grabs the collection of whisky. Bruce’s eyes flutter open when Clark pulls his blanket and shoved the bottle of Xanax right in front of them, shaking its content in visible upset. Yes, he mixed the pills with the drink, fully aware of its consequence. Clark is about to say something, but stopped when Bruce gives him a weary expression. All whisky and meds are shoved into the nearest shelf.

“I bought you coffee, Cinnamon Sugar Free Nonfat Mocha with 4 shots of Expresso, exactly according to your preference.” Clark says hopefully. Bruce catches the faint smell of coffee down the hallway. It is tempting. He can’t help but smile, yet burying his lovesick grin into the pillow. Of a man who known for being ruthless, how did he end up falling hard for his once-sworn-enemy?

Clark crosses his arms, which is a demanding gesture that’s not threatening. If Bruce sees him, which is highly likely, he chooses not to acknowledge him. Wrapped in sheets, Bruce seems less intimidating and more relax. Is it his presence that calms Bruce and pushes away his ever-present anxiety? He is on the edge of giving in. Almost. His expression softens a bit before he climbs into the bed. He slips off a shoe and yanks off another. Kneeling beside the cocoon of his boyfriend, Clark runs his fingertips along Bruce’s messy hair, caressing him tenderly.

“Bruce. C’mon. Rise and shine!” A muffled Mnmm and Bruce tug his sheet.

Clark let out a snort. Feeling annoyed, Clark’s hand is pulling Bruce’s cheek. Bruce turns and lies on his back. His lips curl involuntarily. He blinks and opens his eyes. They widen when he meets the azure sky of clarity in Clark’s eyes. He notices a brown spot on Clark’ left iris. It never occurred to him Clark has heterochromia. One more tick to Clark’s special list filed in his brain. Having an alien boyfriend is too far out. Bruce might as well have overlooked the little specialness in Clark’s eyes. Hell, he is overshadowed by the blissfulness radiating between them.

It doesn’t matter, Bruce reminds himself. Clark is all his now. All his to explore and consume.

Before he comes to senses, Bruce captures Clark’s lips with a kiss. The kiss is open and full of affection. It tasted of espresso and milk from the flat white Clark always drinks. Clark is taken by surprise; in the kiss he feels Bruce’s sort of sleepy enjoyment that makes him smile. He let Bruce’s tongue in; the kiss is a bit too much tongue just to say good morning. It ignites the lustful fire in Clark’s eyes, one that Bruce doesn’t want to dull.

Savoring the kiss, neither of them dares to break away. Bruce takes his time to sit upright and adjust his position. With Clark next to him on his knees, he takes a firm hold on Clark’s shoulder and gently pushes him backward onto the mattress. Hands entwined, Bruce kisses Clark again, a hard needing kiss all teeth biting and sucking that forces him to open up. Clark accepts it fervently, allowing Bruce’s tongue to wind with his.

“The breakfast will get cold.” Clark’s voice is like honey running into his ears.

Bruce bites Clark’s ear playfully, earning a soft moan. “The breakfast can wait.” He unbuttons Clark’s plaid shirt while trail kisses down his neck, collarbones, chest, leaving bites along the way. He licks around the other man’s nipple. Clark moans, his body is jerking with anticipation. Bruce looks up and smiles at the mesmerizing sight. Clark is like a canvas; Bruce paints a hue of red on his cheeks. He takes a brief moment to admire Clark’s well-toned masculine body, those cheap inferior shirts do no justice in hiding it. Bare and nipples peaked, Clark looks beautiful. He dips his tongue into the other man’s bellybutton, it pulls a surprised sound from him.

“Bruce…”

Responding to his name, Bruce rises up and seals Clark’s needy call with another kiss. He bites his lower lip lightly and pulls it. Clark’s hooded eyes stare at him in hunger. Bruce buries himself in the crook of his lover’s neck; he inhales his scent, of musk, coffee and fresh sweat. His lip travel to his Clark’s throat kisses him and feels the pulse race more. Feeling a bite at his throat, in a sudden breathlessness Clark let out a strangled moan and grabs a fistful of bedsheet. The bite suffocates him in a way that arouses him. Bruce kisses him in an amused gentleness; he caresses him in a focused and loving manner. It is hard to imagine such tenderness from appalling Bat of Gotham. Clark knows Bruce is capable of love. Bruce is not a beast trapped in suit and skin, but a selfless soul morphed in a bat-like monster.

Clark can feel Bruce’s hand travels down and fumbles with his zipper. It doesn’t take long until he is sucking off Clark, skillfully and precise. With every inch of his cock sinking into Bruce’s mouth, Clark can’t help moaning at the tight lips and wet warmth around him. A particular deep thrust has elicited a loud sound from him. Clark bites his lower lips and claws at the sheets to distract the overwhelming pleasure.

Bruce reaches out and takes hold of Clark’s clawing hand. He uncurls the tensed fingers and places them on the back of his head. Clark’s fingers sinks into his soft, grayish hair. Clark has his hips thrusting up into Bruce’s mouth, while threading through his hair. Clark’s cock touches the back of his throat; Bruce stifles a gag and proficiently avoids any displeasure.

The mixed sensation of pleasure and desperation has Clark pushed to his edge. His chest feels heavy and the pressure from his abdomen is unbearable. Suffocating yet not lack of air, he realizes he has been holding his breath. Clark gasped hard and shaky, only to be taken a back from a hard suck from Bruce. He can sense his restrains falling apart, slowly getting peel off by Bruce’s affectionate efforts. The thought of losing control of his heat vision and burn a hole through Bruce’s rooftop crosses his mind. He shudders at the precarious feeling.

Clark glances down and tries to send desperate warning. However, Clark is even aroused by the sight of Bruce sucking his dick with his beautiful mouth. He moans, unable to avert his gaze when he meets Bruce’s fiery eyes.

“Bruce… I…” Clark can hardly make coherent words from the accelerating pants.

Upon Clark’s desperation, Bruce’s eyes narrow with a malicious glee. Instead of slowing down, Bruce sucks him harder in a smug pace. Clark shut his eyes and bites his lower lips even harder until it draws blood. Except the pleasure from his lower half capsize the pain and washes all over his body. With a loud cry, close to scream, he comes into Bruce’s mouth. The sensation is so strong that he almost knock out, luckily he did not hurt Bruce as well as property. Euphoria washes over his body and has his eyes rolled back at the overloaded sensation.

Bruce gets up and leans on Clark’s body. He gives Clark a wet, fervent kiss that’s both erotic and sweet. Clark feels his own cum slipping into his mouth, he neglects the bitter taste and entwines his tongue with Bruce’s. Their saliva mix together and the sensation is surprisingly not gross but good. His eyes meet Bruce’s earnest gaze. Heartbeats stop at this very moment, Clark looks into Bruce’s eyes and sees deep into his lover. As if the barriers around Bruce’s heart have crumbled, Clark can see Bruce’s soul and he is sure that Bruce sees his too.

**You are mine, and I am yours.**

When they part after a length of time, a sting of drool is still joining their mouths. Clark stretches his hand and wipes it from Bruce’s mouth, now red from the rough thrusting. He smiles and works his way down to Bruce’s half hard cock. Bruce sits on the bed and spreads his leg to allow an easier access. Clark unzips his pants and strokes Bruce’s dick for a few time until he comes.

Both sated from the pleasure, Bruce lies down while Clark curls next to him. Bruce adjusts and wraps his arm around Clark’s shoulder. The two of them now face to face stay still in this loose but warm hug, unwilling to move away from the assuring safety of the warmth. Bruce can feel Clark’s breath, itchy to his nose, but warm and alive. Clark Kent is very much **alive** in his arms, not the lifeless corpse he held months ago.

It’s Clark who draws away first, but hesitated when he feel Bruce tensing up. Confused, he cups Bruce’s cheeks and looks at him, asking for a silent permission. Bruce avoids meeting his eyes; he frowns before moving his forehead on Clark’s shoulder.

“I’m afraid if I let go, you slip out of my reach again.” His voice is deep with unwanted, vulnerable emotion he tries to hold back.

Despite a shallow promise, Clark hugs Bruce tighter and the strong arms around him are more promising. He buries himself into the calming warmth, taking note on his new comfort zone. Clark strokes his head in a way of consoling a terrified child, how **ridiculous**.

“I’m here, Bruce.”

“I’m not going anywhere. With the league we are working on, the world is going to be a safer place. We won’t fight alone. You don’t have to be worry for me anymore.” Clark coaxes him.

Bruce moves his attention to the window, staring into the morning Metropolis. It is true, the darkest time had passed, dawn came and morning arrives. He, a man who is too fucked up to care beyond the present threats, finds himself looking forward to the future. Most of all, he is going to share a future with Clark.

Bruce nods at the reassuring words. Clark then breaks away lifts himself up on his elbow. Bruce follows and they get off the bed. “Our long forgotten breakfast requires our attention.” Clark says teasingly as he pulls up his boxer.

At a blink of an eye, Clark is fully dressed and waiting by the door. Bruce can’t help thinking his age is catching up. Sarcastic comments and restless worries are all being swept away when he catches the sight of Clark’s grin. His smile, so warm and even radiating, is the one thing he sworn to protect.

His Clark. His love. His hope.

“C’mon Bruce.” He says.

“Alright, my sunshine.” He returns.

**Author's Note:**

> Posting this two days beforehand, an early Merry Christmas to all of you :)


End file.
